She Will Be Loved
by TheAwesomenessThatIsDumbledore
Summary: Songfic to 'She Will Be Loved' by Maroon Five; told from both Fang and Dylan's perspectives.


**The Awesomeness That is Dumbledore here...I know I should be updating Max Martinez, but this song has been stuck in my head and it only took me ten minutes to write so... please don't hate me?**

_Beauty queen of only eighteen_

_She had some trouble with herself_

Fang looked through the small window; through the light, drizzling rain, he could only see a blur of white, unpainted walls, a generic blue bedspread, and then-his breath caught-Max herself, curled up on the bed. She seemed to be looking at something, and though he couldn't make out her expression exactly, she certainly wasn't jubilant. The room radiated remorse, and Fang both hated and clung to the fact that he was the cause of it. She was in so much pain; but, presumably, she cared about him.

_He was always there to help her_

_She always belonged to someone else_

Suddenly, Max's head jerked up and she looked toward the door, like someone had knocked. Fang craned my neck for a closer view as a blonde head poked through. Cut too short to be Angel, to tall to be Gazzy...he knew instantly who it was.

Dylan crossed over to the bed and sat down cautiously. He grabbed Max around her shoulders and scooted her toward him, his lips close to her ear as he whispered something to her. Fang's teeth ground against each other, and his fists clenched. Just when he...when he thought...

But no. She didn't need him; he saw that now, as she leaned further into his chest-_Max! His Max, on Dylan's lap!-_and nestled her head into his neck.

_I drove for miles and miles_

_And wound up at your door_

_I've had you so many times but somehow_

_I want more_

I didn't know how I got here, didn't know how I knew that Max was at Dr. M's, that I even knew where Dr. M's was; I had just flown, for hours on end, found myself a tree, and nestled in. Somehow, Max was in that room, just beyond his reach. He could imagine himself reaching out, through the glass, through the unrest and regret, and touch her. To stroke her cheek, to know that she wouldn't pull away. He had had her, and he had massed everything up. He had had his chance, but even as he knew he was a jerk and should never go near her again, he wanted to pull her onto his lap and push his face into her hair, breath in that strong scent of dirt and wind. The smell of Max.

_I don't mind spending everyday_

_Out on your corner in the pouring rain_

I knew that I should get up, should get myself away from this big, tangled mess of frustration and longing, but he couldn't. He was stuck here, wallowing in self pity, guarded from the rain only by a weak little oak tree. It was pathetic, really. Strong, silent Fang, stranded on a tree outside the window of a girl. He disgusted himself.

_Look for the girl with the broken smile_

_Ask her if she wants to stay awhile_

_And she will be loved_

_She will be loved_

Even as she was lounging in Dylan's arms, she looked...broken. He had never seen her like this before. It was confusing and heartbreaking, and he wanted it to stop. He wanted her to go on without him. It was a strange realization, but the thought of it sent tingles of truth down his spine. Or maybe that was just shivering.

_Tap on my window knock on my door_

_I want to make you feel beautiful_

_I know I tend to get insecure_

_It doesn't matter anymore_

Fang hugged his legs to his chest, resting his chin on his knees. He knew that if she were to notice him-even if it was impossible, his being invisible and whatnot-it would ruin everything. He couldn't just waltz in, give her a hug, and instantly repair everything he had done. He knew that it was a desperate hope, but even so, he wanted desperately for her to look up and acknowledge him. For her to see how much she meant to him, even just how beautiful she was. It was a selfish desire, he knew, but he needed assurance that he wasn't just going to be tossed away. He wanted to know that she still wanted him, even with what seemed like miles between them, evin if it was just a few yards. These miles were made up of bitterness and awkwardness, of time and emotion.

_It's not always rainbows and butterflies_

_It's compromise that moves us along_

_My heart is full and my door's always open_

_You can come anytime you want_

It wouldn't work, he repeated to himself over and over. It would never be the same. But he could compromise. He could meet her halfway, even if halfway was still miles across broken glass with bare feet. He wanted to welcome her, to let her know that he was not really gone, that he was merely waiting for her to open the window and beckon him and everything would go back to normal. He didn't mind how long that took.

_I don't mind spending everyday_

_Out on your corner in the pouring rain_

_Look for the girl with the broken smile_

_Ask her if she wants to stay awhile_

_And she will be loved_

_She will be loved_

_I know where you hide_

_Alone in your car_

_Know all of the things that make you who you are_

_I know that goodbye means nothing at all_

_Comes back and begs me to catch her every time she falls _

She was so weak seeming, Fang realized, like she could still feel lonely in a room full of people. She was hiding, hiding from her family and her Flock, alone. It wasn't Max. I knew who Max was, knew everything about her, inside out. But he couldn't wait forever. He couldn't walk across miles of broken glass with bare feet. He blinked angrily, reality blowing away his foolish wish like the wisps of smoke scattered by the wind and rain.

He turned and threw out his wings, catching a big gust of wind and soaring upwards. He didn't care if she caught a glint of dark wing. He knew that, as much as he wanted to, he couldn't stay away from here forever. He would come back, over and over, refusing to let time to heal his wounds for dear she would forget him, like his mere presence, though it went unnoticed, made her remember. Or, even worse, that he would forget her.

_Beauty queen of only eighteen_

_She had some trouble with herself_

Max was in her room.

He was consciously aware of this all through dinner, through the recorded rerun of _House. _He wanted to find out why the guy had hacked up a piece of his lung, honestly, but the only thing he could think about her, upstairs, possibly looking at that stupid letter. Stupid, stupid stupid.

_He was always there to help her_

_She always belonged to someone else_

He wanted to go up there and comfort her frequently, but he knew she would be the same as always, distant and detached. As much as he ached to see her grin, just for his benefit, he knew everything she did was tainted by the memory of Fang. Avery little hug or small smile ended abruptly, interrupted by thoughts of him. She would never be his. Why was he even still here?

_I drove for miles and miles_

_And wound up at your door_

_I've had you so many times but somehow_

_I want more_

And yet, predictably, he _did _end up outside her bedroom door, listening not to muffled sobs, but to something worse: silence. She had no tears left in her. She just wanted to be left alone. And if Dylan had an ounce of self-control, she would've been left that way, but he didn't. His hand seemed to turn the knob of its own accord, pushing the door open without his authorization.

_I don't mind spending everyday_

_Out on your corner in the pouring rain_

_Look for the girl with the broken smile_

When Dylan entered the room, quietly closing the door behind him, Max smiled at him brokenly. He hated that. She looked so beautiful, but so sad and strange, he felt like if she were to cry a river, he would drown himself in it, if only to please her. The whole room was filled with a sense of stale tears and fading memories. He hated it so much.

_Ask her if she wants to stay awhile_

_And she will be loved_

_She will be loved_

"Hey." He said simply, settling next to her on the bed. He grasped her shoulders and pulled her into his chest. She sighed a sigh that could break your heart, even if you hadn't been engineered to love her unconditionally (as most hadn't been, surprisingly), and nestled hear haid against hi neck. He could feel her pulse in her neck, beating steadily. It made him feel calm. Taking a chance, he put his lips up into her ear and whispered, "Why are you so down tonight?" As if just to crush his dreams, she waved a hastily scrawled letter lazily through the air, like she didn't care. As she replied, attempting at a careless tone, "Found this," her voice cracked and she buried her head deeper into his neck. "What do you need?" He asked, trying to sound as careless as she had tried to, but his emotions, _his _need for her to reply, "You,", seeped through.

_Tap on my window knock on my door_

_I want to make you feel beautiful_

Instead, she said, "Nothing. Just to be left to my own devices for another hour or so. I'll be down soon."

It was a lie. He knew it, she knew it, and they both knew the other knew it. But Max kept up the same facade she had since he left. More than anything, Dylan wanted her to ask him for help, to admit that she wanted him to try and fix this. But she didn't. She stayed quiet and disgracefully beautiful, even if she did not know it.

_I know I tend to get insecure_

_It doesn't matter anymore_

It was an insecurity, and he knew that. He was raised being told that he loved her and she would love him, had been reassured of this countless times. He had been shows pictures of her, sound bytes of her voice and video of her flying, so his brain would learn to be captivated. Now, after being told for so long she would love him as much as he loved her, she did not. It shook the very foundation of his world, and he felt unworthy and headstrong, foolish to have thought he could just bat his eyelashes a few times and have her infatuated.

_It's not always rainbows and butterflies_

_It's compromise that moves us along_

_My heart is full and my door's always open_

_You can come anytime you want_

Their relationship was tentative and awkward at best, like a formal, mutual agreement. He wanted to be able to do more than just stroke her hair, but he couldn't. He would have to compromise, to sacrifice his emotions so she wouldn't feel pressured or rushed. He was ready for her, but her not for him.

_I don't mind spending everyday_

_Out on your corner in the pouring rain_

_Look for the girl with the broken smile_

_Ask her if she wants to stay awhile_

_And she will be loved_

_She will be loved_

He would wait as long as it took for her. He was willing to do that, because he cared.

_I know where you hide_

_Alone in your car_

_Know all of the things that make you who you are_

_I know that goodbye means nothing at all_

_Comes back and begs me to catch her every time she falls_

**GRRR I hate DYlan with the passion of a thousand fiery suns, but his character does seem interesting and complex. I'm also working on a story of different ways for him to die, coincidentally.**


End file.
